


Waves of Potential

by ohnoscarlett



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Magical Realism, Soulmates, mpreg possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:57:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohnoscarlett/pseuds/ohnoscarlett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis mourns the end of one relationship only to crash into another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waves of Potential

Louis walked down the street, absently stroking the hard lump of his swollen belly. He’d spent the afternoon with Niall, holed up in his favorite chip shop, stuffing themselves sick while Niall prattled on in a vain attempt to make Louis happy. Louis appreciated it, he did, but it was still too soon. The hurt of being left behind, alone, was still raw.

Louis smiled despite himself, remembering Niall spinning tales about his own half-hearted hook-ups. Niall fairly overflowed with natural Irish charm; everyone loved him, and he was constantly surrounded by friends. One never saw Niall with anyone in particular, though. Louis actually thought he was either asexual or in the midst of an epic dry spell. That he was merely incredibly secretive about his exploits, “successfully discreet, Louis,” was news. Hilarious, hilarious news.

Louis stifled a belch and sighed, then crashed full on into someone, seemingly out of nowhere. They both staggered, Louis and this gangly fellow, both of them mumbling apologies into the air. Louis stumbled and reached out to steady himself, but pulled back with a yelp as a bright spark crackled between them.

The gangly fellow flipped a mass of unruly curls out of his face and looked at Louis. He was breathless, and pale, and had the most strikingly expressive green eyes Louis had ever seen.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was like sugar syrup. Louis reached out to touch his arm, but ended up clasping hands instead. “You’re so hot,” he declared once their skin touched. Louis couldn’t help a tiny smirk, reflected instantly in the twinkle of the other lad’s eyes. “I mean—your hands. Your skin is so hot.”

“So is yours,” Louis replied, looking down at the long fingers curled gently about his own. “That was…”

“Yeah. My name’s Harry. My place is just there, around the corner.”

Louis nodded, dumbstruck, as Harry tugged him along the sidewalk.

Harry’s flat was an old post-industrial loft, not that Louis took in any of the details. The longer they touched, the harder it was to look away. Louis found himself standing in the middle of a spacious room, neat, if a bit full of books.

“I’m a student,” Harry offered. “Studying law.”

“Oh,” Louis replied lamely. “I kind of want to vomit.”

“Oh!” Harry’s eyes popped open and his eyebrows disappeared into his hair. He gave Louis a rather obvious once-over, noting the hand on his slightly distended belly. “ _Are you pregnant?_ ” he whispered, looking adorably concerned.

Louis threw his head back and laughed.

“No! Oh god no,” Louis managed when he caught his breath. “I’ve just eaten everything on the menu at the chippie and it’s starting to disagree with me.”

“Oh. Oh, good then,” Harry said, still a little confused. But he pointed Louis toward the loo anyway.

Louis emerged a few minutes later, having vomited as quietly as he could and cleaned up a bit. Harry hopped up from where he perched on the edge of a tatty velvet sofa, looking shy and hopeful. Louis thought he was lovely.

“So, um.”

“Was that for real?” Harry asked, stepping closer as Louis stalled in his path across the room.

“I can’t say,” Louis admitted sheepishly. Harry inched closer, cautious, but a determined look on his face. He reached for Louis’ hand, but jerked back with a gasp. It happened again. Electricity.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said, shaking his head and tossing those fabulous curls. “How is that the sign? Will it stop?”

“I think,” Louis offered, dropping his gaze from Harry’s luscious mouth, “that we may have to power through it. Acknowledge it somehow.”

“Acknowledge it,” Harry replied dubiously. Louis shrugged.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped nearer. His hands were gentle as they skated along Louis’ jaw, static popping between them until he bent his head. He paused, lips a mere fraction of an inch from Louis’ mouth; near enough he could feel the trembling in his fingertips and the shaky breaths washing over him.

“You’re mine…” Harry trailed off.

“Louis,” he supplied helpfully.

“ _Louis,_ ” Harry said reverently. Louis shook as he looked up into Harry’s eyes. “And I’m yours.”

“ _Yes._ ”

Electricity snapped and crackled around them as Harry pressed his lips to Louis’. Louis couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see; nothing but Harry. He vaguely heard glass shattering in the background, but he didn’t care. He had Harry, and that was all that mattered.

“Wow,” Harry said against his skin.

“That was real,” Louis said softly. “Definitely real.”

“I can’t believe it,” Harry replied, resting his forehead against Louis’. “Can’t believe you’re real. Really here.”

“I am,” Louis laughed, “somehow.”

“You are.” A smile stretched across Harry’s face. “And you’re not…” his eyes flicked down Louis’ body.

“Most definitely not,” Louis supplied, straightening his shoulders haughtily.

“You’re so pretty,” Harry grinned, stroking Louis’ cheek.

“Not so pretty as all that,” Louis argued.

“Well fit then,” Harry countered with a grin.

Louis tore his gaze away from Harry when he realized that they had been slowly moving across the room. The bed was suddenly much nearer.

“Are we going to do this?” Louis asked, vague enough that Harry could take it any direction he chose.

“If you like,” Harry replied, hands trailing down Louis’ arms like he didn’t know what to do with them. “I want to see you. If that’s ok. But we can wait, get to know one another, if you’d prefer.”

“No,” Louis said pushing Harry back with both hands to land sprawling on the bed. “I don’t think I want to wait.”

Louis tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Harry’s eyes glittered as he watched Louis shed the rest of his clothes, making a little pile at the end of the bed. He paused, watching Harry as his gaze raked across his naked body hungrily. Louis knew he looked good—all the hours running the pitch for football surely paid off; but he smirked when Harry realized that he was still fully dressed and scrambled to rectify the situation.

Louis rested one knee on the bed as Harry wrestled with his impossibly tight skinny jeans. When he huffed in frustration when they tangled at his knees, Louis laid a soothing hand on his ankle and offered a smile. Harry stopped struggling and eased his jeans off the rest of the way.

Louis had to bite his lip. Harry was stunning. The shirt hastily thrown to the side revealed a shocking amount of tattoos scattered across smooth skin—although Louis figured the same could be said for him. And like Louis, Harry didn’t hesitate to peel off his pants and fling them away.

Louis tasted blood and realized he bit through the skin of his lip. Harry was—Harry was perfect.

“It’s as if I dreamed you up,” Louis said dazedly. “Here you are. You’re…” he flailed a bit, lost for words, and Harry grinned, reaching for his hands to pull him up on the bed. “Just when I needed you the most. Have I lost my mind?”

“If you have,” Harry said in a low voice, almost as if he didn’t want Louis to hear it, “then so have I.”

When they kissed again, the visible spark was gone and Louis was sure some of the tension disappeared. He still felt it though, as their hands explored. It was like his skin tingled everywhere Harry touched him, and he couldn’t get enough.

They both gasped, teeth clacking, when Harry’s hands slipped down to discover Louis’ arse. Louis jerked, pressing them together from chest to thigh. They were both hard enough for their cocks to stand stiffly away from their bellies, bouncing with each tiny movement until their hips crashed together and all was still.

Harry and Louis lay side by side on his plush linens and gaped at each other. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes since they first fell into each other, but Louis couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“I thought it was just a myth. An urban legend, like,” Louis said into the scant space between them. His heart was hammering like he was setting up for an overtime penalty kick. Harry reached up to tuck away a strand of Louis’ too-long hair.

“Me too,” Harry said. His fingers traced down Louis’ neck to the script tattooed across his collarbones, making him shiver and inch closer. “I’d heard of it happening still, but I’d never met anyone who’d actually met their—“

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, tangling his fingers in the generous curls threatening to hide Harry’s sweet face. “Their mate.”

“Soulmate,” Harry amended.

“Yeah. Brilliant.”


End file.
